


words like violence break the silence

by ktlsyrtis



Category: Holby City
Genre: Angry Sex, Angst and Porn, F/F, Guilt, Jealousy, post-Leahmageddon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 11:17:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16831570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktlsyrtis/pseuds/ktlsyrtis
Summary: They drive home in silence, not even the background noise of the radio to ease the weighted atmosphere between them





	words like violence break the silence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wonko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wonko/gifts).



> _Inspired by this post from Wonko:_  
>  Anyone writing some post-cheating reveal angry sex where Bernie goes full Major Wolfe and tops Serena until she doesn’t know which way’s up?
> 
> I feel like I’m generally known for my fluffy warm loving smut at this point. This is…not that. So mind the tags, kids, it's a bit of a bumpy ride
> 
> Thanks as always to Bonnie and Beth for betas and moral support <3

They drive home in silence, not even the background noise of the radio to ease the weighted atmosphere between them. 

There had been words aplenty between them at the hospital. Bitter words that burned Serena’s ears, sat like ash on her tongue. Recriminations and apologies, an endless stream of words as Serena tried to find some way to explain the unexplainable, tried to keep her world from falling apart. 

The worst part was Bernie’s complete shock. Watching her faith and belief in her, in them, shatter like glass as Serena spoke, replaced by anger and hurt the likes of which Serena had sworn to herself she would never cause. 

She tried to stay calm, but the more she tried to explain, the more Bernie drew in on herself, cutting her off with sarcastic disbelief, unwilling to let Serena get a word in edgewise.

Panic bubbled up in Serena, frustration and fear making her words sharp, things she never meant to say spilling out of her like bile.

“But you weren’t here. You left me! You built a life without me in another country when I couldn’t follow, like you couldn’t wait to get away from me.” 

The ensuing silence was agonizing and unbreakable, a wall she built with her words, brick by brick, pushing people away, like her mother always said. A wall she didn't know how to breach now.

Bernie hasn’t spoken since they left what used to be their office and Serena feels like she’s going to jump out of her skin. She keeps stealing glances at every traffic light, sees Bernie’s face set in the same blank gaze, stony and implacable.

At least they left together, she thinks. She’d suggested they leave separately, assumed that was what Bernie would want, but Bernie refused. After what she’s done, that small spark of hope feels like nothing less than a miracle and she clings to it with white knuckled desperation.

The silence holds as they walk through the front door, broken only by the _thunk_ of Bernie’s case on the floor. Serena hangs up her coat, hands trembling, and by the time she turns around Bernie is already down the hall and part way up the stairs.

Serena stands frozen in the foyer, not sure if she should follow. _Does she want to be alone? Does she even want to see me?_

She squares her shoulders and heads towards the stairs. As much as she doesn’t want to talk about this, she knows well enough that isn’t an option. Bernie is the first thing in her life that has ever truly been worth fighting for, and Serena will talk until her throat bleeds if that’s what she needs to do to regain Bernie’s trust. 

Marshaling her courage, Serena steps tentatively through the half open bedroom door. “Bernie? I-“

Her words are cut short as she’s suddenly pushed backward, her back hitting the door and shutting it with a bang, the impact knocking the air from her lungs. 

Before she can gasp for breath, Bernie’s mouth is hard on hers, their teeth clashing as her tongue fills Serena’s mouth, stealing the last of her air. The lack of oxygen makes her a little dizzy, disoriented enough that she hardly feels Bernie’s hands gripping her arms, hard enough to bruise. 

As quickly as the kiss began, it ends, Bernie’s grip still pinning Serena back against the solid wood of the door. She sucks in a deep, ragged lungful of air, then another. 

Bernie’s eyes fill Serena’s vision - coal black and blown wide, filled with rage and lust and pain. Tears burn behind Serena’s eyelids, blurring Bernie’s sharp features, and her heart breaks all over again at the shameful knowledge that _she_ did this. _She_ hurt Bernie, hurt them. 

Her mouth opens, desperate to find the words to make this better.

“I’m so-”

“ _No_.” The hands on her arms squeeze harder, Bernie’s face going dark. “I don’t want to talk anymore.” Bernie’s voice is gravel rough, sounds as if it’s gone unused for years instead of an hour.

Serena understands, even if her heart aches with the knowledge that her words aren’t enough. Still, a part of her is relieved, welcomes the chance to do something else with the chaotic energy fizzing through her, the same energy she can feel vibrating in every tense muscle of Bernie’s body. She nods, and she thinks she sees a flash of gratitude in Bernie’s eyes before they harden again. Her hand tangles in Serena’s short hair and tugs roughly, arching her neck back, and Serena can’t help the desperate whine that slips from her throat. 

Bernie leans in, close enough that Serena can feel teeth against her jaw as Bernie snarls in her ear. 

“I am going to fuck you until you forget _her_ name.”

Heat suffuses Serena’s body, pinks her cheeks, throbs between her thighs. It’s probably a bad idea, just the two of them looking for something, _anything_ , to avoid the maw of pain that yawns between them. 

But the thought that Bernie still wants her, still wants this, makes hope flare bright in her chest. 

She doesn’t want to resist. Lets her spine relax, melts into the grip Bernie still has on her hair, turns her head just enough to brush her lips against the soft skin of the inside of Bernie’s forearm. She can feel the pulse thrumming beneath her lips, Bernie’s eyes flaring hot at her submission. 

Pulling her head back a little further, Bernie kisses her again, fierce and deep, and Serena gives herself over to it willingly, hissing as Bernie’s teeth catch her bottom lip, tugging hard. Bernie’s normally dexterous fingers fumble intently at the front of Serena’s blouse for a few moments, finally just pulling the halves apart with a low grunt. Serena hears a button _ping_ against the floor as Bernie tugs the fabric down her arms, leaving it to tangle awkwardly around her elbows.

She arches her back to try and wriggle out of her blouse the rest of the way and feels Bernie’s hand slide across her waist, hot through the thin fabric of her vest, trousers going loose around her hips as Bernie’s fingers pop open the button. Bernie’s grip around her tightens, helps hold Serena steady as she frees her arms, steps out of her shoes, shimmies her trousers into a pile on the floor, despite the distraction of Bernie mouthing along her neck and shoulders. 

A sharp bite to the ball of her shoulder startles a cry out of Serena; she almost loses her balance, feels herself pulled back sharply against Bernie’s chest.

Breath harsh in Serena’s ear, Bernie walks her across the room, pushes her down on the plush bed that they haven’t shared in six months. Bernie looms over her, eyes black and expression like nothing Serena has ever seen. She looks like a stranger and it sends a shiver down Serena’s spine.

Trying to steady her trembling hands, Serena reaches out toward Bernie, to catch the hem of her shirt, but Bernie slaps her hands away, eyebrows furrowing. 

“Keep you hands to yourself.” Bernie’s voice is thick and the words come out clipped, as if she herself is surprised by them. In a flash Serena realizes that’s not what this is, that what Bernie needs is control. To regain some sense of control in a situation where she was deprived of any agency. 

Shame floods her anew, sits hot and thick in her throat as Bernie pushes her back further until she’s lying prone on the bed.

Serena’s breath catches as Bernie straddles her hips, the denim of her jeans rough against Serena’s thighs. Her hands slide between silk and skin, dragging Serena’s vest up over her torso. Serena finds herself tangled in the fabric, and Bernie’s fist bunches in her top, pulling it tight around her wrists and pinning her hands to the bed.

From the very beginning they’ve never been particularly shy with each other in bed, trust each other enough to ask for what they want, what they need. Even when things have gotten aggressive, Serena’s always felt the question in Bernie’s touch, every caress, no matter how rough or pointed, making a silent request. _Here? Like this? Is this all right? Can I…?_

There are no questions in Bernie’s touch now. 

Her fingernails bite into Serena’s skin, blazing trails of heat down her chest, her mouth following in their path, sucking a bruise along the edge of Serena’s collarbone as she pulls down the cups of her lacy bra. 

Teeth sink into her nipple and Serena hisses in a breath, the pain pulsing through her, settling between her thighs. Bernie tugs, hard, a strangled yelp falling from Serena’s lips as she arches and writhes, Bernie’s implacable grip still holding her immobile. 

Serena’s nerve endings sing with sensation as Bernie lays claim to every part of her, rough and relentless, leaves no inch of skin untouched. Like she’s scourging Serena clean, erasing anything except Bernie from the very memory of Serena’s body. Almost like penance.

Serena gives into it, gives herself over to Bernie, pleasure arcing through her as tears leak from beneath her tightly closed eyes as emotions overwhelm her — torn between the moment and what led them here. 

Every movement of Bernie’s hands, every press of her mouth blazes the same message across Serena’s body. 

_Mine. Mine. Mine._

She only notices her hands are free when Bernie nips at her inner thigh, doesn’t even think of moving them. Doesn’t think she can. Serena doesn’t fight when Bernie rolls her onto her stomach, roughly tugs her drenched knickers down her legs.

Serena sobs almost gratefully when Bernie’s fingers push inside her, filling her, the burning stretch bridging pain and pleasure into a single overwhelming sensation. Her fists clench in the duvet, nonsense sounds spilling from her mouth as Bernie thrusts again and again, hips anchored behind her hand.

The world fades away, Serena’s mind going fuzzy at the edges. Her awareness shrinks until there’s nothing left but her and Bernie, the connection between them, the pleasure Bernie is taking from her body.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Serena’s moans transform into a single phrase, panted over and over. 

“I’m sorry, so sorry…”

Bernie’s hand clenches in her hair again and Serena feels herself tugged roughly backward, her spine bowed, pulling her upright until she’s pressed against Bernie’s chest. She can feel warm skin, doesn’t even know when Bernie got undressed, time itself seeming to slow and stretch.

An arm anchors across her chest like an iron band, Bernie’s hand resting at the base of her throat as the other moves inside her unceasingly.

“Do you feel that, Serena?” she says, her voice a choked snarl in Serena’s ear, breathing ragged. “Do you feel me inside you?”

Serena tries to speak, but her words are garbled by a particularly vicious thrust of Bernie’s fingers.

“No one else gets to touch you like this, to _have_ you like this.” She shifts and the palm of her hand grinds hard against Serena’s clit, making her whimper and squirm, her body torn between the desire to move away and get impossibly closer.

“No one else,” she gasps, her voice unrecognizable to her own ears. “Never. I never would...o-only you.”

“That’s right.” Serena is taut and trembling in Bernie’s arms, focused only on her words, the thick emotion in her voice, the web of desire wrapped tight around her. “You. Are. _Mine._ ”

Serena comes with a wail, her entire body spasming endlessly, agonizing pleasure overwhelming her until her vision goes grey at the edges and everything feels very far away.

She comes to in Bernie’s arms, her cheek pressed against the slightly sweaty skin of her sternum. The ridge of her scar presses into Serena’s skin as she rises and falls with each of Bernie’s unsteady breaths. In this moment of silence, of stillness, it’s as if they’re one body; united, unbroken by foolish mistakes, and Serena never wants it to end.

It’s too much to hope for.

Serena shifts slightly, and Bernie tenses beneath her, shuffles awkwardly to the other side of the bed. The sudden lack of warmth makes Serena shiver.

The inches of space between them feel like a chasm as Serena forces herself to reach across them. Her hand finds the soft skin of Bernie’s stomach and her heart aches when she feels Bernie flinch away.

“No,” she says hoarsely, the words like a blow to Serena’s gut. “Not yet. I...not yet.”

“Okay,” Serena whispers, pulling her hand back. “When you’re ready.” She retreats further toward the edge of the bed, pulling the rumpled duvet up over her body, chilled, aching and covered in marks and bruises that she know will sting come morning. It’s no less that she deserves, she thinks as she clicks off the light, plunging the room into the semi darkness of winter moonlight.

Serena tell herself to be patient, knows she has to be strong enough to give Bernie whatever she needs, to wait for her to be ready for whatever comes next no matter how painfully Serena wishes it was all magically settled between them. She turns to her side, facing Bernie, swallowing hard against the voice in her head that screams at her to beg for forgiveness, to find a way to make this right.

“I love you,” she says softly into the darkness, eyes fixed where dim moonlight just outlines Bernie’s silhouette. It’s not enough, she knows it isn’t. At the same time, it’s everything. Everything that she needs Bernie to understand, the only thing that truly matters.

“I know you do.” The words seem to come from very far away and Serena aches to reach out again. Instead she clutches her hands in the sheets until the muscles burn, forces herself to stay still. “I lo-” Bernie breaks off, a wet sounding hitch in her breath. “I’m going to get some sleep.”

Serena bites down on her lip to hold back a sob, hard enough that the bright taste of copper fills her mouth. SIlent tears roll from her eyes, hot with shame and heartbreak, tracing the lines of her face.

“We have a lot to talk about tomorrow.” Bernie sounds endlessly weary. She turns away from Serena in the darkness, facing the edge of the bed.

Her words are a benediction, a gift that Serena’s not sure she deserves. Whatever else may happen tomorrow, tonight nothing has ended, no decisions have been made. It’s enough, for now. It has to be.

Rolling onto her back, Serena stares up at the ceiling in unseeing silence as the night slowly crawls toward morning. 


End file.
